By a stroke of good fortune, RENÉ SCHAEFER found himself in Christchurch, New Zealand, in late February for a reformation show by legendary Flying Nun outfit The 3Ds.

It’s been a long time since New Zealand noise-pop rockers The 3Ds visited Australia in 1997. Earlier in the decade they were being feted by the likes of Pavement and Sonic Youth, and on the back of those endorsements they not only toured with those bands, but were included on the 1995 Big Day Out festival jaunt. On the occasion of the Melbourne BDO they played in a cavernous tin-shed very low on the bill and managed to drive the majority of unsuspecting punters out within minutes with their screaming, feedback-drenched guitar sound, which completely overwhelmed the carefully constructed tunes underneath.

The band never really developed the reputation here that they achieved in their home country and the US, despite their not infrequent visits. Instead they, like many of their kiwi contemporaries, have developed a small, but obsessive underground following. To the initiates, The 3Ds represent the perfect marriage of the pop-smarts of the “Dunedin Sound” (The Clean, The Chills, The Bats, etc.) and the noisier end of the NZ post-punk musical spectrum (The Gordons, The Skeptics, The Dead C).

Fans had heart-palpitations when it was announced that The 3Ds were reforming after over a decade of inactivity at the insistence of their old mates Pavement, who are curating this year’s All Tomorrow’s Parties festival in the UK. While so far no Australian dates have been announced, a few warm-up shows in cities around NZ were quickly organised. By a stroke of good fortune, I found myself at The Bedford in Christchurch for the last of these gigs.

The Bedford is a large red brick hall near the centre of town, fitted out with a long bar along one wall in the style of many American band venues. Having arrived early to catch the support acts, it soon became apparent that I needn’t have worried about over-crowding. About 150 people mingled about quite comfortably in a venue designed to hold twice as many patrons. The locals informed me that this was quite a good turn-out actually, and no indication of a lack of enthusiasm for the legendary headliners. Certainly, the crowd was abuzz and dotted with well-know faces, such as Bruce Russell of The Dead C and members of Die! Die! Die!

The young opening band, Street Chant, plied a decent line in ’90s riot grrrl and grunge styles, not unlike now-defunct Melbourne band The Diamond Sea. They were solid enough, but probably held more appeal for a younger crowd. Still, it was nice to catch this up-and-coming mixed gender trio.

Next up was a band called the Lo-Liters. These four ladies were of slightly older vintage and played some great trashy country rock-inflected songs. It didn’t really connect with the audience, maybe due to their confusing anti-image, but had elements of classic kiwi pop and a solid beat at its core.

“[It] made me reflect on the utter injustice which has seen some of the world’s greatest bands being ignored because of geographical isolation.”

As The 3Ds shambled onto the stage, the crowd not so much surged, as politely took one step forward. It was easy enough to secure a prime position at the feet of lead guitarist David Mitchell. Denise Roughan looked dwarfed by her vintage Burns bass, but otherwise was a picture of mature-aged cool and spot-on musicianship. To her right, I initially mistook David Saunders for a young roadie as he languidly plugged in his guitar. Definitely in his 40s by now, he could have been a gawky younger sibling to Thurston Moore or Steve Malkmus. No wonder he’s the ladies’ favourite.

From the opening salvo of ‘Sing-Song’ and ‘The Venus Trail’ the sound was brutal, yet melodic and sharply defined. Mitchell played as sloppily as ever (an enormously endearing trait), spending much of the time crouched over his wah-wah pedal, often operating it by hand rather than in the orthodox fashion. The set was a veritable greatest hits cavalcade with songs like ‘The Young And The Restless’, ‘Beautiful Things’ and ‘Hellzapoppin’ being greeted with rapturous shrieks and applause. Having three distinct songwriters in the band has always been one of their greatest assets. As each vocalist got their turn, it was easy to appreciate their contrasting styles, which still merge into a coherent whole.

Halfway through the set, Saunders ran into some technical difficulties. Some amp- and guitar-swapping slowed proceedings down, but couldn’t dampen the audience’s spirits. A highlight was the double whammy of their greatest non-hits ‘Outer Space’ and ‘Hey Seuss’, two anthemic numbers of grunge-pop to rival anything by more popular overseas contemporaries like The Pixies.

This once again made me reflect on the utter injustice which has seen some of the world’s greatest bands being ignored because of geographical isolation. Hell, New Zealand is a country where a quirky outsider artist like Chris Knox can be celebrated as a national cultural icon, yet in the rest of the world hardly anybody outside the realm of music nerds is aware of his work. It brings to mind the time Knox performed his hit song ‘Not Given Lightly’ on Australian music TV show Recovery in 1997 and quipped “I bet you’ve never heard of me”, before explaining that he had only been playing music for two decades.

With the recent resurrection of the Flying Nun record label and renewed interest in kiwi music from local artists, critics and music lovers alike, and many classic bands like The Bats, Dimmer, The Renderers and The Chills visiting our shores, it appears New Zealand music is primed to finally be appreciated for its originality and diversity. The 3Ds definitely still have the spark that made them a world class band in the first place. Their warped, over-driven pop sounds like no other band on the planet. Let’s keep our fingers crossed for an Australian tour in the not too distant future.

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